In October I went to the Paris+ Art Basel Art Fair. It was my first major art fair in an international city.
Previously, I’ve been to many local art fairs all over the United States, but those are usually events that are held outdoors with a range of accompanying entertainment like live local music, food, and simultaneous community events. Paris+ Art Basel was something entirely different.
Anticipation
The fair was held in the Grand Palais Éphémère, a new building that has recently been constructed at the southeast side of the Champs de Mars in Paris. It’s a controversial building because it’s architecture doesn’t match the surroundings, it blocks the view to the Tour Eiffel, it’s only supposed to be temporary, and it will host some of the events for the Paris Olympics in 2024. All of these things cause problems for the Parisians. I didn’t find the building particularly noteworthy- in fact at one point the fair exits the main exhibition area and continues in a semi-permanent tented area that was overheated and had a flow problem. Normally the event space wouldn’t be something I would comment on, but for an exclusive international art fair, I expected the event site to be glamorous. Not so.
Paris+ Art Basel started on a Wednesday, as they usually do, for exclusive showings and private business time. Dealers and clients arrange pre-opening meetings. Art world celebrities are invited to see the works and be celebrated. In-progress purchases and past relationships are solidified. It seems like a very exclusive and secretive process. It’s ritualistic and mysterious to those of us not initiated.
When I walked up to the building there was a huge entryway for VIPs. I’m not sure I’d recognize most artists, critics, dealers, or other notables in the art world, but I still watched the VIP entrance to see who was coming and going. They were well dressed and purpose driven.
My husband and I had pre-purchased tickets online, and scanned them at the entry during our slotted entry time. After a brief security check, we were in. The venue was large, and despite the non-glamour of the building, the gallery spaces were open, large, and white. Rows and rows of white cubicles. I stood still in the entrance. Where should I go first? What was the protocol? How should I explore this territory? I wanted to see beautiful things, talk to people, and learn about this whole process. I pulled out my map.
An Icon in the Fog
The first thing that caught my attention was a large gold-leaf canvas. I looked at the tag. Jenny Holzer. An icon to greet me at my arrival. I was excited.
Now, how to proceed? I could stand to admire the art from afar or walk right up to the paintings and gallery spaces and spend my time doing closer examinations. We started wandering aimlessly because I wanted to just ingest the vibe.
For a newcomer, the fair was exotic and difficult to navigate. Venues and galleries all had their own stiffness, and language was complicated. There was the language of art and the language of communication. Being in Paris demanded a certain comfort with French, but an international art gathering transacts in English. I tried both but was surprised at the dismissiveness of many of the gallerists. At some stalls I was ignored entirely, and at others I wasn’t quite sure what to ask.
The welcoming atmosphere I expected was stifled, as if there was a very specific method of behavior and performance here, which is exactly why the art world can scare and exclude people. This was not a place to dream and conceive of new projects for yourself as an artist or writer. I didn’t feel inspired to create. This was a place that had the heavy air of artists so iconic you haven’t heard of them yet screaming “I’m done. Look at what’s been made. It’s complete and you can’t change it.” When I’m at galleries and museums, I look at the art and feel free to interpret, to wonder, to absorb the stories. Here at Paris+ Art Basel, I felt confined to the role of student: look but don’t touch; regard but don’t interfere; nod and don’t ask questions.
And Yet…
I recognized many galleries by name. I have visited many of the cities listed on the gallery signposts. I know a bit about the art world because I’m an art lover, I’ve had art lessons since I was a child, and I’m a museum buff. I’ve been to smaller art fairs and purchased some art from local artists. I’m a patron of the arts. And, I have a masters degree in Arts and Culture Management. So I kept telling myself I belonged.
This show was massive- much larger than I expected. Although I never let go of my imposter syndrome (I don’t paint well! I can’t spend hundreds of thousands of dollars on art! I didn’t wear Gucci! I don’t know most of these artists!), I took a deep breath and remembered that I’m always learning, that I fit in because I love art, and that this was a very exciting event. Plus, I had a ticket. That had to equal acceptance. So I exhaled and set about viewing again.
How Do I Interact with Art?
To look at art properly is to interact with it. Generally, I stand a bit away from the works and see which ones get my attention. Are the colors of that one appealing? Is that one unusual to me somehow? That one over there- is the subject interesting? Do I recognize the style, the artist, or the theme? Sometimes I’m unaffected, and other times something really grabs me. I step up closer. I want to find the story.
I look at the work and try to imagine the story it’s telling. I try to see the artist working on it in my mind. I look at the edges to see what’s off center and why it’s taking up space on the fringes. There might be symbolism. There might be a lesson for me to learn here. What is speaking to me in this work? There’s always a story. Sometimes that story’s for me, sometimes not. But I listen.
I take pictures when I can. I like to relive the moment later and remember what it was that interested me so much at the time. I want to know if it will pull at me again later.
Spectating
One of the best parts of the fair was the people watching. Patrons were dressed in both quiet and loud luxury. I saw handbags on my lottery wish list, shoes I’ve admired for years, custom suits, carefully tailored fashion, and both vintage and current season pieces from every luxury brand. People weren’t being showy, but they were definitely fashion conscious and attentive to detail.
On point, Louis Vuitton sponsored a big part of the show and had an end-cap booth showing artist painted handbags, trunks, and other goods that showed their collaborations and devotion to the art-fashion luxury crossover. Other brands in partnership with Paris+ par Art Basel were Audemars Piguet, Guerlain, and Galeries Lafayette, among others, so you can see the importance of fashion and art supporting one another.
Questions
I tried to visit most of the booths and really take in the art. I’m still learning a lot about the art world and I’m very curious about what drives the business end of the art market. Who buys museum-level art? How is art priced? What goes into valuing artwork? What makes good art? Why do some artists become famous and others don’t? How does an artist get representation? I’m trying to suss out these complex explanations from a variety of sources. What I’ve learned so far is that everyone has a different opinion. And experts are only experts because they say they are. So I’m reading a lot and talking to people and now, going to major art fairs.
What I found was an air of mystique, even within the two or three walls of the gallery spaces. Gallerists and hosts, when not talking very privately to certain clients, were hunched over laptops in a “do not disturb me” typing frenzy. Or they were perched on tiny stools eating salad (salad!) casually as if this was their afternoon picnic area. Nearly every booth was personally off putting.
And I fell for it. I got intimidated fast and went to my introverted space. I still walked right up to gallery spaces, but I didn’t talk to those around me as I usually do. I did manage the courage to talk to a few hosts at some of the smaller galleries, but I stumbled over words and worried that I was taking up their time.
The intimidation factor was huge. Do I speak French or English? What do I say if they ask me if I’m interested in any of the art? (I wasn’t there to buy.) Is it out of place to say I’m not here to buy? And since I’m a nomad, what do I say if they ask if or what I collect? My few pieces are being held by friends, but I don’t have a home base currently, so buying art is out of the question at the moment.
Seizing the Moment
The point of any event or artwork is to enjoy the moment, to hear the story, and to learn. Once I made the parallel with yoga (breathe, build awareness, find harmony) I began to enjoy myself immensely.
The art fair is too big and too overwhelming to do a meticulous sweep of every aisle. The best way is to wander. I made some direct lines to galleries I know and love (many were fascinating with the works they curated for the show, and one was a real disappointment). Between booths I took time to look into the distance and discover things on the periphery. I skipped several spaces and went to get a glass of wine and started my observation again from the other side of the hall. It’s against my normal inclination to deviate from row-by-row completion, but in this case it was incredibly satisfying. Daring. Artsy, even.
I got bold enough to walk up to a negotiation. At a famous gallery, a gallerist was helping a client. They were talking price on a well-known artist’s work. Glass in hand, I stood nearby, interested in the specifics. “It’s 480,000 DOLLARS, not euros,” the gallerist proclaimed. “And you’ll still have to pay the import taxes.” The buyer nodded. I sipped. I smiled. I leaned in to view the work. I nodded to the duo. Then I backed away. At an event where artworks can (and do) sell in the multi-million dollar range, I realized that I was enjoying myself just by observing, and that the show is as much about the people as it is the art.